<blockquote>Of only one thing was Kinis Tainn certain.
He was probably supposed to be dead.
The boy did not really remember that day, when he had been huddled up underneath some bushes and waiting for it all to end. As far as he was concerned, it was all a part of one feverish dream which had lasted for many weeks now. The fire in his blood had raged, ready to consume him. He had been willing to die. Even in his delusional state, he had been eager for it.
Instead of the cool, sudden relief he was promised, instead Kinis' torment was prolonged only to see the fire quenched little by little. It happened so slowly that it was almost imperceptible; in his hot, flushed state, it took a considerable amount of time before he even had the state of mind to realise that the pain was not quite as bad as it used to be. Even then, it was more than enough to overwhelm him, and he spent a great deal longer in the grips of the fire. It was his existence now, and a torture that he simply had to grow used to. There was no end in sight.
Perhaps he was already dead.
<font style='margin-left:20px;'>It was sad how the first truly coherent thoughts to flicker through his mind were to wonder in anguish why he deserved this. The ache ran deep through his core, the pain sharpest in his right hindleg, his throat dry and... he was thirsty. But not <i>too</i> thirsty. Somewhere, a logical part of him questioned that; why would he be thirsty if he was dead? But if he was alive... why was he not dead from thirst? He had not been in any state to seek water for a long time; though the length of time was incredibly blurry, he knew that it had been no brief state. If not from anything else, then the thirst should have taken him.</font>
But it had not. Lamely he shifted his head, dragging it across the cold, hard ground slightly, in the vain hope that there would be water nearby. It was only then, for the very first time, did he notice the smell. He had forgotten that he possessed senses other than for pain. As if he were a newborn, previous deaf, dumb and blind, Kinis slowly and cautiously began to reconnect with the outside world. The scent of pungent plants was overwhelming the moment that he noticed it, and his muzzle wrinkled in distaste - even more so when he smelt his own sorry state. That was just nasty. It felt worse, though. An ear twitched forwards, testing its own capabilities, but either he could not hear anything or his ears did not work any more. So overwhelmed by disaster, he did not feel too put-out by just one more. After all, who needed to hear when you were dead? Was it really that important?
Softly he sighed then, and after that his breathing settled into an almost-soothed pace, certainly a change from the frantic panting that had been his norm. He had no idea where to get some water, for he had no idea where he was in general, and if he wasn't already dead then he had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't going to die any time soon, either.
Weakly he pulled his head up and laid it upon outstretched paws, the positioning of which he neatened slightly, for comfort's sake. He wasn't <i>that</i> thirsty. He could... he could deal with it later.</blockquote>
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<i>at least... that's where I'm supposed to be...</i></center>
<i>at least... that's where I'm supposed to be...</i></center>